Raven's Cry
by Amethest
Summary: This is a follow up story of The Footsteps of my Father, a tangent off of that fic. This is the story of Raven and why she is the way she is. And WHY Voldemort wants her, other than to bait Ari.
1. Prolouge

You don't have to read Footsteps of my Father before reading this, but if you do, it'll make a lot more sense and you'll understand where she's coming from. This prologue, it's actually nearly a year after the events of Footsteps and centered around one of the characters from it.  
  
Please read and review!!  
  
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Raven's Cry  
  
Prologue  
  
They say that you don't remember much from before you were ten years old. You may have flickers of memories, snatches of what happened. But it's not until you turn ten when you begin to remember much more. And sometimes, the things that you remember are not that pleasant. Love, loss, betrayal, friendship, loyalty; those are the characteristics that make up my life and my story.  
  
They say that when a soul is born into a body, it has a certain destiny. But where do souls come from, exactly? Some say they come from an immortal sea, from where they hold all knowledge and are the closest to enlightenment that any human could ever conceive to wish or hope for. However, when a soul is born into a physical body, it loses what it knew in that higher plane and once it is in a physical body, it has to work quite hard to regain even the tiniest amount of knowledge that it once held. As time wreaks its inevitable damage upon the physical form, the soul becomes even further detached from that immortal sea of souls.  
  
However, each soul is unique and the fate that it is destined for is determined when it is placed in a physical body. No one knows their destiny but every step they take in the world brings them closer to their final fate.  
  
As for me, my fate is to become a Death Eater. I've known this since I was informed of who my parents were. However, I have a chance to change it, and I've never backed down from a challenge; never. I will fight for what I believe in and I will make those that try to detain me have a life of living hell.  
  
I have lost so much over the past few years; I don't even know where to begin. I am a witch and I grew up in a pure-blooded wizarding home, though not with my real parents. No, my real parents are still rotting away in Azkaban, which is the least that they deserve after their crimes as Death Eaters. They tortured and killed countless Muggles and wizards without so much as a backwards glance. And I despise them for that.  
  
I grew up with a good family; wonderful parents and the best sister in the world, and they never once judged me because of my parentage. They accepted me and, although I knew of the evils of the Muggle and Wizarding worlds, I had a secure life. My adoptive parents were both Aurors and by the time I was five, I knew nearly as many charms and hexes as a second- year at Hogwarts. Taken, they weren't as advanced, but I could at least perform a few basic ones. Once I learned something, I never forgot it.  
  
I believe that my soul has a purpose here, whether it be light or dark. I have known all my life that I was destined for something, though I did not know what at the time.  
  
I may only be thirteen, but I remember much of my life before I came to Hogwarts. It is painful to look back upon, for I had such a happy life and then, it was all ripped away. The likely hood of me going to Azkaban is high, as I am currently within the grasp of the Dark Lord himself, and if any Auror caught me in his presence, I would be locked up and serve the same fate as my parents. One of my close friends lies in Azkaban at the moment, and he didn't even do anything. He was just caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was supposed to have been released within a month; however, he lies there still, forgotten because of the war that has begun.  
  
The Dark Lord has his plans . . . and I have mine. I do not know fear, for I have never had it. However, loss is a painful lesson in life, and I have learned that in hundred folds.  
  
My name is Raven Maria Lestrange.  
  
And this is the story of my life. 


	2. An Unusual Day

A huge thank you to Nokomis! You're the best! This wouldn't be half as good without you!!  
  
This is dark, but it lightens up in the next chapters. Eerie . . . .  
  
Please read and review, of course! *grin*  
  
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Raven's Cry  
  
Chapter One  
  
-An Unusual Day-  
  
Far off in a remote location, hidden from the Muggle world and feared by the Wizarding world, lay the infamous prison Azkaban, its tall, dark towers glinting in the sunlight. While not appearing to be that large on the surface, it had hundreds of tunnels stretching underground, lined with dark, damp cells. There were no windows, not even in the two towers. It was ominous looking and the darkness that surrounded it could not be touched by the sun.  
  
Down in its bowels where the light shied away from the creeping darkness, lay the most nefarious of Azkaban's prisoners. Most of them Death Eaters, there was one that was the most infamous of them all, though he wasn't a Death Eater. His name was Sirius Black and he had been condemned to life in that hell hole. Although, twelve years later, he would escape and prove his innocence and aid the Boy-Who-Lived in the fight against the Dark Lord. However, that is not crucial in this tale; for it takes place many years later, so let us return once more to the Death Eaters.  
  
The Death Eaters that the Aurors had managed to capture rotted away in the dark, damp dungeons of Azkaban, far from the light of day, constantly surrounded by Dementors, sucking away any happy thoughts that they might have had. Most of them were still despairing, for the realization that they would never leave had not dawned on them quite yet.  
  
The other inhabitants, the ones that had been there for quite some time, had given up, losing all their hope that one day they may be freed. However, it was always a subject of interest when new condemned souls were brought down into the darkness. The Dementors would always become excited at the prospect of fresh souls, yearning to suck the very life from them and would rush towards the newcomers eagerly. It was always a treat to have new happy memories for them to absorb, for many of the inhabitants no longer had any happy thoughts left.  
  
Most inhabitants went mad after a few months, some even less than that, from the constant horror of every day life. They wallowed in their despair and it eventually overtook them, swallowing them in madness. A great many of them died, withering away in the darkness, but they were quickly replaced with new flesh, heads full of memories that the Dementors loved to feast upon.  
  
Outside of Azkaban, the sky was clear, a vast sea of blue stretching in all directions. The sun beat down on the surrounding lands; the air still having the crisp, cool taste of winter. October was upon the land, stretching its cool fingers, chilling the inhabitants. But it was a usual day for October, a bit of white snow glittering on the ground.  
  
The Wizarding world was still in celebration, for the Dark Lord had been defeated by none other than one-year old Harry Potter and it was a time of peace. Two years full of placidity and quiet, something that they had not had in many, many years. The Aurors were methodically hunting down all the Death Eaters that they could and throwing them in Azkaban.  
  
And today was just like all the other days. Four Death Eaters had just been sentenced to life in Azkaban for torturing an Auror and his wife. They were currently being thrown into their cells down in the bowels of the dungeons.  
  
"You won't hear the end of us, Crouch!" the woman yelled, her black hair flying wildly around her face, her hands gripping the bars that she had just been shut behind. Her husband, with equally black hair, stood beside her, his cold sapphire eyes staring at the man who had just sentenced them to this life of living hell.  
  
"Father . . . . please," a boy whimpered from the next cell, but Crouch paid him no heed. He looked directly into the woman's face, sneering.  
  
"Don't worry, Death Eater, I'm sure I'll hear more about you. How you rotted away in this pit with no mind left to aid your precious master, who, by the way, is gone. Defeated by a mere child, at that," Crouch said, smirking.  
  
Crouch straightened and motioned for the two Aurors, a man and a woman, that were flanking him to leave. The three of them walked away from the cells, the clicking of their boots against the cold, stone floors echoing down the hall. The boy collapsed onto the ground in despair, sobbing. The woman stood at the bars, glaring defiantly and her husband stayed at her side. The other Death Eater sat in a dark corner in a nearby cell, his will already weakened by the Dementors that stood nearby.  
  
"The Sanders will pay for betraying us to that fool," the woman hissed.  
  
"Don't worry," her husband said, looking out into the hallway. "They will."  
  
"The Dark Lord will come for us."  
  
"Yes, Anya, and when he does, we'll be free."  
  
Anya placed her hand on the inside of her black Death Eater robes where a glowing pink pregnancy charm laid. "Our daughter will learn from our mistakes and grow to be strong, joining our master at his side and bringing down all those fools," she sneered.  
  
Anya glanced at the wall where the boy sat on the other side. Her husband followed her gaze, listening to the boy sob. "He won't last."  
  
"Perhaps," she said softly and then an overwhelming wave of coldness passed over them and they withdrew into darkness.  
  
As the days grew into weeks and into months, the two Death Eaters managed to keep their wits about them and when Mrs. Sanders visited, they were defiant to the last minute. Anya would sneer and not speak a word. Her husband, Gareth, would just stare at Mrs. Sanders with an expressionless face, his eyes cold and calculating. Finally, Mrs. Sanders stopped coming, frustrated and unnerved by the cold, emotionless, calculating silence.  
  
However, the other two Death Eaters weren't as fortunate. The boy, constantly being visited by his mother and sometimes his father, would sob into the uncaring night, the inky blackness unaffected by his anguish. Some nights, though, silence dominated his cell. He was completely silent, as if he was planning something. They knew that the boy was despairing over the loss of a life out of the prison. Any moment, they expected the panic to set in and the madness, the madness that always came when they realized that they no longer had any chance of getting out; when they no longer had any hope left.  
  
But the boy surprised Anya and Gareth with his strength, for while he did go into sobbing fits, he still had a gleam to his eyes. There was a fire inside of him that refused to be extinguished. Dolohov, however, took a turn for the worse. His mind had let go of its fragile holds on sanity, and he slipped into the darkest depths of the human mind by the third week of his incarceration. They would hear him cursing everything and then sobbing. A few times, they could hear him throwing things at the walls, letting out this awful howl. Occasionally, he would throw one of their metal food dishes against the wall, and the clang would echo down the corridor, inciting screams of terror and fury from the other inhabitants.  
  
When the Dementors would come to silence him, Anya and Gareth would just take deep breaths and focus on the fact that their master would be coming for them soon. They would eat the meager meals that they were served, even though they didn't feel like eating at points. They had to be strong for their daughter. Though they knew that she could not grow up in the prison and that they were going to have to leave her with someone, they loved their unborn child deeply. They hoped that she would someday find her way back to them, for they would miss her terribly.  
  
The day their daughter was born was a day to remember, for it had to have been the most unusual day ever. The sky was crystal clear and bright blue and the sun covered the land in light. Evergreens stood out brilliantly against the pure white backdrop of snow and the mountains. There was not even the slightest breeze and the air was still, as if the entire planet was holding its breath, waiting for something.  
  
And then it happened. Anya was screaming in pain as her daughter was born and outside, nature echoed this child's birth. It was early afternoon, but ominous clouds began rolling in and it became pitch black outside, not even a hint that it was still supposed to be day. A huge storm swelled, lighting streaking across the sky and thunder echoing it in loud booms that shook the very Earth. The wind howled, whipping the trees and blowing the snow, forming a blizzard.  
  
Only one thing ventured out into this weather and it was a pure black bird, a raven, silhouetted by the flashes of lightning. It flew through the energized air, landing in a tree near the infamous prison. It cawed loudly and the thunder echoed its cry.  
  
Deep inside in the pits of hell, a child was born. While most children are not born with much more than a tuft of hair, this child nearly had a head full of pitch black hair, as black as the inky darkness outside. The child looked up into the face of her father, her huge, glittering sapphire eyes echoing his own. She laughed and it seemed to bounce off the stone walls, filling the entire corridor. Even the Dementors, who normally would suck the happiness from any creature, even the most fearsome, could not stifle this child's laughter.  
  
"What's her name?" Gareth asked, looking down at his child with a peculiar expression on his face.  
  
"Her name is Raven," Anya said, looking at her daughter with a small smile on her face. "Raven Maria Lestrange."  
  
Outside, a huge flash of lightning scorched the night sky and the thunder rumbled loudly. The raven cawed again and then took off, disappearing into the inky blackness.  
  
Then, as quickly as it had come, the storm dissipated, leaving a clear blue sky and a bright sun. Many people would remember that event, for it had been quite unusual, almost as if nature itself had risen to speak. One prophecy had been passed down throughout history and it spoke of such a day that a soul would be born into a body that would fulfill the prophecy at the proposed time. 'Fire will fly and many will die.' Now, whether or not that prophecy is true will be decided in the future.  
  
Within the prison sat two Death Eaters that, at this point in time, were the happiest that they had ever been in a long time. Anya held her daughter close and Raven's laughter helped her and Gareth keep their strength up as the Dementors crowded around their cell hungrily. Into the night, the two parents sat holding their child, smiling, but in the morning, their happiness was shattered.  
  
Mrs. Sanders came back, the first time in many months, and demanded that they give up their child.  
  
"A child cannot grow up in a prison!" she declared.  
  
"Don't you think I know that?" Anya hissed, glaring at the woman coldly. "I know Raven has to grow up with another family, but it's not going to be the family that betrayed us! I will not have my child grow up with a family that despised her parents!"  
  
"My dear, you have no choice," Mrs. Sanders said, her voice growing colder by the minute as she stood arguing with the mother. "I'd rather have you give up the child willingly, but if it comes down to force, I will do what I must."  
  
"My child is special and I will not have you ruining her destiny!"  
  
"Her destiny? What, do become a Death Eater like her parents?!"  
  
"If that is what she wishes, then she will. It will be her decision. I don't want your influence on my child!"  
  
"You are not getting our daughter," Gareth said icily.  
  
Mrs. Sanders looked at him coldly. "Oh, really?" At that moment, four Aurors walked up, flanking Mrs. Sanders. They had their wands out, pointed at the two Death Eaters. "I don't want to harm you. Just hand over the child."  
  
"No!" Anya yelled, covering her child with her arms, protecting it from them. She looked down in the eyes of her child. Raven looked up at her, her blue eyes large, as if she sensed something wrong. However, she didn't cry. No, this child had not cried once. "I'm so sorry, love, please don't hate us," she whispered to her daughter.  
  
She heard the door open and listened as Gareth tried to fend off the Aurors, but failed. She heard the Stunning Charm being uttered and heard the thud as Gareth fell to the stone floor.  
  
Anya spun to face the Aurors, her face full of fury. "You will not have my child!" she screamed, holding Raven close. "You will not take her from me! I am her mother!"  
  
"You may have brought her into this world, Death Eater, but you are not fit as a mother," Mrs. Sanders said coolly. "Your mind has already weakened from the constant presence of the Dementors and in a month or so, you will not remember how to take care of yourself, much less a child."  
  
Anya knew this was true, but she didn't want Raven to be brought up in that house. Raven would never know her parents and how much they loved her. Anya couldn't bear that.  
  
"Please, don't take her!" Anya cried, tears coming to her eyes. "Please."  
  
"I'm sorry," Mrs. Sanders said, holding out her arms for the child. "Raven must come with us."  
  
Anya took a hesitant step towards the woman and then jumped back. "NO!" She moved to run, but she was not fast enough. She heard the Stunning Charm being uttered before she felt it. She felt as Raven was taken from her arms and the impact of the cold stones on her body.  
  
Mrs. Sanders looked down at the fallen Lestranges. She sighed, saying softly, "I'm sorry, but it's for the child's own good." She looked down at the swaddle of clothing in her arms, Raven's rosy face peeking out between the folds. Huge, sapphire eyes looked up at her, shining with something . . . something that she could not quite place. "You are now Raven Sanders, and that you will remain. Your parents are lost to you." And, for the first time, Raven cried, her wails echoing throughout the dungeons of Azkaban. 


End file.
